


Reunion and Then...

by AnAntTM



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Canon Rewrite, F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAntTM/pseuds/AnAntTM
Summary: After leaving Ram Village to become the leader of the Deliverance, Alm leads a ragtag group of rebels to free Zofia Castle from a tyrannical General Desaix. Meanwhile, Celica has a premonition of Alm's suffering in a brutal battle, sparking her to leave the Novis priory for the first time in 7 years. When the two reunite at Zofia Castle their meeting is... less than perfect.(Slight rewrite of the Act 2 argument, I wanted to make things feel a little more emotional to lead into a more heartfelt reunion in Act 4.)





	Reunion and Then...

The sky had turned to a reddish-orange, the sun setting over a picturesque setting… or rather, that’s what Alm wished would have been greeting him. A battlefield was never a pretty sight, and much less this one. The Zofian outskirts peppered with the fallen corpses of soldiers, friend and foe alike. Freedom came at a price, Alm learned that the bitter way. 

His mind raced, doubt crept over him. Where would he go from here? Perhaps he could return home, to Ram Village. A simple farm life… no. That wasn’t enough for him; it never could be, it never was. He’d found natural talent as a leader, the people followed him despite his horrible inexperience. And besides, Rigel had invaded Zofia, aided in the murder of the Zofian king. He couldn’t let this stand, there must be punishment for such horrible acts of war. But could he really do this…?

Pacing back and forth, he needed to clear his mind. Fresh air. Peace. Sighing, his pacing ended with him resting against the castle’s balcony. Looking up at the sunset, he could almost make himself believe tonight was peaceful. Savoring the peace and quiet… he almost hadn’t noticed the footsteps behind him. 

Suddenly from behind him, he heard a loud call that sounded much like his own name, before something suddenly /leapt/ at him! The pair came tumbling down, with Alm letting out a sound of protest as he fell backwards into a pile of creates, causing them to tumble over backwards. Flinching for a bit afterwards, his hand moved up to his head to rub it gently after feeling winded from the fall. Opening his eyes once again, he looked downwards, something had been clinging to him. Something…

… Celica? … Celica! It really was her, wasn’t it? His heart all but skipped a beat as he saw her, tears welling in her eyes as she held onto him. This was really happening… Wrapping his arms around her, he too held on as if his life depended on it.

There were a thousand things he wanted to say, but yet he couldn’t find the words to speak. Time felt as if it had slowed down to a halt, nothing mattering to him but to have her there in his arms. She was in his life again, she was home.

But time hadn’t stood still for them, and after what felt like hours, the pair began to reminisce about their childhood. 

“You lived in a priory? /You?/ The girl who one time got in trouble for stealing Tobin’s pot roast he’d made just to feed it to a pig? I wouldn’t believe it if you didn’t have the whole priestess get up on.” He chuckled heartily.

“Oh please. Says the one who got in trouble for pulling down Kliff’s pants in front of his mom. You’re just as bad as I was!” She retorted, clearly quite smug over her comeback.

“What can I say? You were my impulse control, I was your… lack of impulse control. The perfect partners in crime, if I say so… I missed you, Celica. I know I promised to find you again, wherever the world may hide you but… well, I didn’t expect to find you so soon after leaving the village.” He lingered there, holding her tightly. He didn’t want to let go, for her feared if he did… she’d be gone yet again. Gone like the gentle summer’s breeze that flowed to and fro. 

“I missed you too, Alm… I never imagined I’d leave the priory either. You, on the other hand always seemed itching to leave the village, carrying that little sword of yours that Grandpapa let you have. It seemed like you were always itching for a fight, even when we were kids! Don’t deny it.” Her tone was sarcastic, yet still had that same jovial features he’d always found comforting.

“Hey, I take offense to that! … Point taken.” He raised his arms in a defeated protest, rolling his eyes as he spoke. Alm always had been a reckless child, wanting to play with wooden sticks that he would pretend was a shining steel sword.

“Ah… You’ve always been like this, Alm. Always willing to fight for what you believe… Perhaps a little /too/ willing.” Her expression had turned a tad somber, as if she were deep in thought.

Alm’s face had scrunched up, puzzled as he looked at her. 

“Well… you were always there to take some sense into. Or slap some into me. I guess it depended on whatever was more efficient.”

“Hm… I wish I could have been there to ‘slap some sense into you’ when you decided to become leader of the Deliverance. Honestly, Alm… what were you thinking? Or were you even thinking…?” Her gaze wouldn’t meet his as she spoke.

Sigh. Shaking his head.

“Someone had to do it, Celica… and Grandpa Mycen vanished when the people needed him most.”

“But why did it have to be /you,/ Alm? You’re not a noble, or a royal. This war isn’t your responsibility. You shouldn’t have to do this.” 

“But Celica, that’s /why/ they chose. I’m a nobody, just some backwater farm boy from the middle of Who-Knows-Where. I know the struggles the people are suffering at the hands of Desaix, I live through them. They look up to me as some sort of…” He trailed off, unable to think of the proper word to describe what the people believed him to be. 

“… As some a figurehead. That’s what you are to them. Someone for the people to look up to, to hail and parade around as a hero. A hero who’s risking his neck for nobles who couldn’t… no, who /wouldn’t/ do the same for you? How can you not see how unfair that is to you, Alm? You’re just being reckless.” Her expression had shifted from somberness… to indignation. 

“Celica… I understand your grievances. I really do. But, ah… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve finally found my purpose in life; like I mean something to others. Why else would Grandpa make me spend my whole life training if I /wasn’t/ meant to pick up a sword and fight one day? Why is it that when the Deliverance shows up looking for him, Grandpa also just /magically/ disappears, only to show up right here at Zofia Castle? I’m sorry, but that too damn convenient to be just some throwaway coincidence.” 

“He wanted to keep you /safe/, Alm. He wasn’t building you up to die in some damned war! Coincidence or not, what difference does it make?! Maybe you’re not /meant/ for anything. You just want to be something bigger than you are; that’s not who you are! What if you get hurt?!” 

Hearing that… hurt. To be told he wasn’t meant for anything, for Celica of all people? His breathing was heavy, he felt a tear well up in his eyes as he spoke, brushing them aside as quick as they had appeared.

“… Right. Because Ram Village has /so/ many reasons I’d ever need to defend myself. I supposed you’d rather I rot away back in the village. Wasting away in a never-ending monotony. Is /that/ what you want?”

“What’s wrong with that? At least you’d be safe there. You could live happily in the village with your friends… maybe even a wife. But no, you’re out here risking your life instead. Why…? Why did you need to make this /your/ war?! It never was yours to begin with! You’re in way over your head!”

“… Because I don’t want a simple, quiet life. That’s all every damn second of my life has been up until now. I want… I want to make something out of my life. I wanted… I wanted to see you again.”

“I… I did, too. For seven years, I dreamed of seeing you again… but not like this. Not knowing that every day you could be riding off and never returning! I don’t want you to die!”

“... I’m sorry, Celica. But that’s not your choice to make. Things shouldn’t have turned out this way, but I have to stand by my choices in life.” 

“Ghh! …. Fine, then. You stubborn jerk! I—Go ahead! Be the hero. Be the next damned king, if you like! That’s what you want, isn’t it?!”

“What? No! That’s… that’s not what I want at all! I just want to do my part to help my country safe! It’s as much my right to defend Zofia as it is any knight of this castle.”

“Say you do stop the Rigelian invasion. What’s next, hm? Explain me this. Are you just going to lay down your sword and just walk your way back to the village? Be realistic, Alm!”

“I don’t /want/ the crown! I don’t want to be King! It’s said King Lima’s daughter survived… maybe, we could find her once Desaix and the Rigelians are chased out of Zofia!”

Celica’s expression softened at that remark; it became even increasingly harder to meet her gaze. She refused to even look at him after that.

“… D-Don’t be ridiculous. Even if she /was/ still alive, do you really think the Zofians would prefer some princess that abandoned them and hid, instead of their hero?”  
“I’m sure the people would understand why she was in hiding! Grandpa said that Desaix had his men try and slaughter her as a child… can you believe that? I’m sure… I’m sure if people knew that, they’d understand. And besides, after how Desaix was running things, any change would be better.”

“Even so, you’re the one who’s here, fighting for them. You’re the one risking everything – and that’s exactly my point! You shouldn’t just be throwing your life away like this..! Please, Alm…”

“I understand your concern, Celica. It means the world to me that you still care this much… but I have to do this. I can’t back down, not now. Not anymore, at least. Please… please try to find it in you to forgive me for this.”

“… You’ve always been too stubborn for your own good. You don’t know anything about leadership, Alm! You should never have agreed to this!”

“… You’re right, I know you are. I don’t know anything about being a leader. And yet, somehow, everyone here believes in me… so why can’t you..?”

“Alm, I… it’s not that. I just… I don’t see why this conflict has to keep escalating when we could try to reach a peaceful solution. And even if we couldn’t… I don’t see why /you/ have to be the one leading this rebellion. It’s too dangerous… please reconsider…”

“… Do you really think this could still be ending peacefully? The time for talking ended long ago, when Desaix murdered the king in his sleep. I’m sorry, Celica… someone has to lead this, and I guess that someone is me now.”

“… Then lead your damned army. I look at you, Alm… and I don’t even know who you are anyone. Goodbye, Alm. I’ll be on my way to the Temple of Mila. Have fun with being a conqueror. You’ve always wanted to play the role of the big and strong knight… I hope I don’t hear you ended up on the lance of one of them.”

And with that, she walked off; she hadn’t even turned around to face him one last time. Alm raised a hand in protest, trying to stop her from leaving… but it was too late. She was gone forever again. Just as soon as she had entered his life… she’d exited it a second time.

“Oh Celica… how did it end up like this..?” 

For once in his life, he allowed himself to express his pain, his suffering. No one came up to visit him again. All the sound that could be heard from the balcony was the sound of a war hero crying over his loss.


End file.
